


Target

by Zeffy



Category: Homeland
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 21:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7138556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeffy/pseuds/Zeffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is some rough fix for S5, starts with the scene where Carrie is hiding in the woods with her rifle in 5.03. All this delicious stuff happened later in the Quinn's hideout didn't leave me be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target

**Author's Note:**

> For SCB, because - Ignition (never to be compared with my silly story), for Laure, HomemadeLemonade and Frangi for ongoing encouragement, for Neverending_story, Kitty and Delika for support and nice thoughtful feedback, and for all LJ crowd for fun and inspiration!

Carrie was shivering – cold or dismay – but she didn’t notice. Alone in the woods, at a cold April night, she had time to get ready to meet her adversary, whoever he was. 

These days were full of rush, constant race of thoughts, endless cycle she couldn’t break. She had to figure it out - no pressure, yeah, just her life is at stake. She went through all the options hundreds of times, over and over, but she had _so much blood on her hands_ , so many enemies she made during the continuous clusterfuck that was her job, and now all of them were waiting for revenge, she didn’t know where to start and where it ends, and the spiral of her thoughts wound tighter and tighter, reaching the point of no return. The inevitable explosion blasted, and she was no longer able to catch up with her own brainwork that became a mess of parts and pieces, her theories flew apart, like paper from the walls that she used for her speculation process. 

Now, after her meds kicked in and dulled her agitation a bit, slowing her down, she regained her ability to think straight, but exhaustion came along. Of course she couldn’t calm down here, in the woods, hiding with the rifle, waiting for her killer, but at least, thank god, she was sane enough to act as a trained professional, not as a crazy mess she was recently. Chances were, she’d make it.

Her pulse ran high as she noticed the car approaching, turning to the driveway beside the house with the lights off. Here it was. She sat still, trying not to move, not to shiver, breathe slowly not to make a sound. She focused, stopped shaking, prepared to act. The dark figure moved, fast and quiet, he was obviously seeking for her, but she was ready, waiting. She won’t be an easy target. Holding her rifle still, she caught the right moment and took a shot. Her chaser fell down. 

Just for a few moments she lowered the scope to come closer to see if he was dead – and he was gone. A fucking mistake, all because of her fatigue, meds, boozing and the lack of rest. She felt her heart in her throat. No, no, this can’t be the end, she has to fight, where is this fucker? He’s probably injured, she has to find him first.  
She didn’t see it coming – hold on her neck all of sudden, seconds of unequal fight, vertigo, and then darkness.  


**

Motherfucker.

Her skin was so cold, her bare arms and cheeks, she must have spent quite a while here, wearing just a sleeveless top. He took off his jacket to wrap it around her shoulders and quickly examined the sore spot on his back, where the bullet hit the bulletproof vest. Of course he didn’t underestimate her, she could still take care of herself perfectly well, and that made him feel glad. Weird, he mused, to be happy to be shot, but, for what it’s worth, everything about this reunion was weird. He lifted her without an effort and carried her to the car.

He was so angry with her. Why is she doing this to him, why is it so hard to resist? It’s been 2.5 fucking years over which he was avoiding this painful tangle of emotions in his chest, even convinced himself it was all dead, leaving dull and desolate desert landscape inside. 

His state of perfect numbness that he cultivated in himself for months, so useful and familiar, was gone after just one fucking touch.

He wanted to help, of course. That was the right thing to do, that’s what he always did for her, but he had so stay in his icy cold state, otherwise he’d be done. Even being knocked out cold, even after she shot him, she was still doing this to him – taking him to his own hell, full of burning pain, fear, rejection and constant longing for her, that was the worst goddamn thing of all. 

She would never want him as much as he did. She, after years of normal civilian life, with a decent boyfriend, clean job that didn’t require killing or being killed, had nothing in common with him now. Maybe she never had? It’s ridiculous that their paths crossed again, and after his plan would be executed they’d go their own respective ways and never see each other again. He’d return to his empty life, waiting for his final mission that would ultimately go wrong - it had to happen, one way or the other. He knew it, and accepted it. 

Fuck, Carrie. He’d stay as far away from her as he could, both in his mind and in the real physical space, because touching her again, holding her unconscious in his hands was a torture, a high risk to snap. All he needed was to stay away, not to let her manipulate him with a single look of her eyes, not this time.

**

The sedative was wearing out. Carrie awoke, slowly focusing on the surroundings, trying to understand where she was, and her pulse accelerated the moment she fathomed what resulted in this. She sat up on the bed, her wrists tied to the bedside. Some panic-filled seconds later she saw him, and let out a sigh of relief. Thank God.

\- Quinn?

Silence. No answer.

\- Quinn, what the fuck? Untie me!

He couldn’t manage to say a word. Instead he came closer, took a knife and started to burn it with a lighter. Just stick to the plan, he thought. He noticed she was scared, of course he did, and it was painful. He clenched his jaw, reminding himself that she was just a name in his kill box, probably ended there by her own fault, a job that he was unable to finish, his own weakness, nothing more. 

No, he knew it wasn't true, but it was easier this way, and it helped, so he continued speculating, focusing on bitter thoughts.

Got out. Got a boyfriend. Why was he helping her? He wasn’t even sure she’d do the same for him, probably she would, in case she wasn’t preoccupied with yet another terrorist or asset she felt obliged to fuck. 

\- Your name is on the kill list, - he finally managed, surprised by the roughness of his own voice. 

\- I know, I.. I can’t figure it out. 

She sounded desperate. 

\- Well, you must have done something. Pissed off somebody, crossed a line somewhere, - putting the lighter aside, Quinn moved towards her, pressing a knife to the skin on his hand, making a deep cut.

\- No, no, Quinn, no! Please, please!

Well, now she was terrified, but he didn't care to explain his actions. Approaching, he kneeled in front of her and pressed his cut palm to her cheek, smearing his blood over her face. 

\- Don't move, Carrie.

\- I didn’t do anything!

She was shocked, her feelings went into overdrive, she didn’t know what to expect next. She looked at him trying to figure who was this man, was he the same person she knew a while ago? It clearly didn’t look like that. But maybe it’s just the façade, and what’s behind it then? For these several moments her brain was attempting to solve the problem of self-preservation, and the truth was – she knew the answer. It was the way he looked at her, she recognized it – nothing to worry about, it was Quinn who would have never betrayed her or harmed her. She trusted him - from the very beginning, and he never gave her a cause to be uncertain, not even once. It could never change. Deep inside he was the same.

\- Carrie, stop moving.

She did. They stared at each other silently, leading their own struggle with themselves, each one of them.  
Just one look into her huge blue eyes, and Quinn was desperately trying to find the strength inside him, not to be dragged into it, no, not again, just stay calm, don’t make the same mistake, don’t look her in the eyes, that’s bad for you, stay out, take a breath, stay conscious.. but it was a matter of seconds and everything that was hidden for years reemerged again, taking over. Carrie. His burning hand on her cheek, her fear that she couldn’t hide, her closeness, her look of recognition - “I know you, you won’t hurt me” - despite his severity - it was too much, and he did snap in a moment. 

He leaned forward and kissed her. 

It was passionate, urging and desperate. He knew he lost, but that didn't matter as his tongue entering her mouth without hesitation to met hers, and she was kissing him back – willing to connect, to feel the world wasn’t falling apart... or to forget that it was.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It felt so right, long-needed, and damn, she wanted it so much. The atmosphere was heating rapidly. She was still tied up to the bed, it was dangerous and arousing, unexpectedly, she enjoyed him taking control, the only person she could only trust irrevocably, even though he scared the hell out if her just a few minutes ago. She could feel her troubles dissipating as she got lost in sensations.

Their kiss left them both breathless. 

He was madly craving for her, for a long time it was only a fantasy that he forbade himself to revisit, but it came in his dreams anyway – except this time it was for real. He was going to use his chance to give her the pleasure she'd never forget, in case it was their first and their last time together.

\- Lie down, Carrie, - he said, his voice hoarse with desire, pushing her slightly down. – Unless you want me to stop.

Silently she did what he was asking, aroused so quickly just by the words he said. No way she wanted to stop him, already so far gone, just looked at him, her pupils dilated with excitation and lust. She wished him enter her immediately, and fuck her hard and fast. 

But he had another game in mind. He was about to take his time, though she could see the grade of his wanting, hell he was big and hard and she couldn't take her eyes of him, imagining how it’d feel to take him in hand. He stood up and began to unbutton her shirt very slowly, brushing her hot skin with the tips of his fingers. He unclasped her bra, barely touching her, shifted it along with the shirt up to her tied wrists, tracing his fingers down from her arms to collarbone, lower to her breasts, made a very light contact with her nipples on the way down - she could scarcely feel it – but it made her moan and arc against his hands. Her skin burned under his touch. His fingertips trailed delicately down her belly, reaching the button of her jeans, undoing it without an effort, scraped the fabric of her underwear slightly, teasingly, that made her shiver, then slid them all the way down her legs, divesting her of the rest of her clothes. 

Once she was naked, he stopped for a moment, enjoying the view, his eyes dark. He lowered to kiss her lips briefly, and she felt his hot breath on her neck while he whispered:  
\- I wanted this badly since the day we met. I’ll make it last. 

Carrie was dying for his touch, every bit of her skin so sensitive and waiting for his attention. He lay near, very close yet not touching her, she could feel the heat of his body on her bare skin. Slowly, so slowly his lips began to explore her neck, nipping it, biting and licking, his hot breath sent tickles down her spine. Her body was tense with anticipation, she writhed for more contact, but he took his sweet time. When he finally reached her breast and made a contact with its peak with the tip of his tongue, at the same time cupping her other breast, taking the nipple between his fingers and squeezing gently, it hit her like a lightning. She moaned and that was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, he was barely controlling himself, being so close to stop the tease and to fuck her senseless. However he managed to calm himself down with few shuddered breaths and continued fondling her nipples with his mouth and fingers. Carrie moved restlessly, completely helpless, and he moved his hand down her side, to her hip, closer to the place she wanted it most. She was already so wet, groaning, while he pulled her closer, kissing her hard, his tongue firmly penetrating her mouth, pressing his throbbing cock against her hip, her hang caressing her inner thighs, coming closer but yet not touching her pubis. 

-Oh Quinn please, - she moaned against his mouth, unable to sustain the tension anymore.

\- Soon Carrie, - he said, his voice low, at the same time making a feather-like contact between his fingertips and her folds, sliding gently up and down applying almost no pressure, making her lose her mind.

He kneeled between her legs, nuzzling an kissing her inner thighs, holding her firmly in place, and few breathless seconds later without a warning his mouth closed fully on her, his hot tongue found her clit, rasping it, applying the pressure firmly and rhythmically. The sensation was too intense and Carrie was whimpering, falling apart completely, tugging at her bonds so that she’d definitely have bruises on her wrists, almost unable to move in Quinn’s strong grip. Just at the right time he slid his fingers into her and she came, moaning, her muscles clenching around his fingers, while he was sucking her nub, prolonging her orgasm, wave after wave, until she was completely worn out. 

She nearly passed out, panting and sweaty, her cheeks flushing and her hair tousled, stuck to her cheek and forehead, lips swollen, she was so beautiful and he knew it was all for him, because of him, he made her lose control, made her come so hard and that was only beginning. He stood up, undressed quickly and cut the plastic cuffs that held Carrie’s hands.

She caught his arm and pulled, indicating him to sit down. So much for being under control, she wanted to take over, see him dissolve under her touch. She sat on his lap, facing him, and at last she could touch him, she took his face in her hands, looked him in the eye, dark and yearning, nothing hidden, raw emotions all on the surface.

\- I need you, Quinn. 

He wanted to hear that, for years, in this exact context. He pulled her close, making a full contact, pressing her to his chest, pushing his hardon against her cunt, and she kissed him fervently, biting his lips, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He gripped her buttocks and they both sucked their breath when he lifted her up a bit and placed his cock against her slick entrance and she took him all the way in, hard and smooth. She was so tight and wet and hot, sweet, so sweet, sweeter than in his fantasies. She began to move slowly, up and down, watching him, not breaking eye contact, wanting him to feel that she waited for him, for _this_ , for proximity, letting their guard down. 

He groaned as she squeezed her inner muscles and quickened their pace, gritted his teeth to restrain himself, but let her lead. There was no way to make it last long, he was holding for dear life while she rose and fell on his prick, moaning his name. Feeling her tightening around him, he grabbed her waist forcing her to stop, being as deep inside her as possible, placed his hand between them, reaching her sensitive spot, and began to rub her clit with his thumb in slow devastating circles, insistently applying the needed pressure to finish her off. She forgot to breathe, they both were balancing on the edge, he caught her lips with his and with a couple of powerful thrusts sent them over. His orgasm was huge, he exploded, filling the heat of her, feeling her pulsating around his shaft, panting heavily, his pulse rushing in his ears. 

They were clinging to each other, trying to catch their breath, entwined, neither of them wanting to let go. Carrie’s head rested on Quinn’s shoulder, and he kissed her neck gently, breathing in her smell, her soft hair touching his cheek and his chest, he caressed her back with his big warm hands. 

\- I wanted this since the day I met you Carrie, - he whispered in her ear, his voice, low and hot, made her shiver. – I wanted you so badly, for so long, I can’t stop now.  
He was still inside of her and she felt he was getting hard again. She thought she was completely exhausted, but maybe not – he needed so badly to feel alive, to take a break from the everlasting nightmare her life turned out to be these days, and to feel completely safe, like she felt in Quinn’s arms. She wasn’t alone in this, not anymore, and she was craving for comfort and pleasure he could offer. 

Holding her, he shifted and laid her on the bed, on her back, staying on top of her, and began to thrust again. Carrie inhaled deeply, moaning softly and threw her head back, carried away by the new wave of pleasure. There was no hunger, no urge this time, just tenderness and affection. He kissed soft pale skin of her neck, whispering in a shaky voice:  
\- You see what you are doing to me, Carrie. I’ll never stop wanting you.

His words and his voice set her aflame again. 

With long, slow, deliberate strokes he pushed himself into her deeply, stretching her, making them both flutter, wanting more, driving them towards oblivion, finding their release.  
Several minutes of sweet torture later they both were completely worn out, wrapped around each other, unable to move or speak. Both sweaty, covered with Quinn’s blood from the cut of his hand and completely content. 

Carrie raised her head from his chest to kiss him.

\- What happens next? - she asked quietly.

\- We’ll sort it out. 

He pressed his lips to her forehead, holding her, tips of his fingers drawing lines on her upper arm. They were silent throughout next minutes, resting, thinking.

-Why did you leave, Quinn? - Carrie looked him in the eyes. – Back then, two years ago? You know, I was looking for you all this time..

\- I.. I guess I was stupid. And scared. 

Carrie inhaled deeply, and he realized she was about to cry. 

\- That’s my fault, right? – She asked. – I should have called you, I know… I’ve said I’d fuck it up, and I did! 

She smiled bitterly. 

\- No, Carrie. Don’t say that! I chose to do what I always do, because I was too frightened to wait. And I was sure I’d got your message - you were going to say no anyway.

\- I did everything I could to find you, I never stopped thinking about you.

\- Listen, I don’t want you to blame yourself for this, and I’m sorry. I was wrong to leave… to leave without a word.

He was wary in his phrasing as he wasn’t sure where it was going. For what it’s worth, she had a boyfriend, and he didn’t want to make things more complicated. Whatever happened between them, he was giving her an opportunity to chalk it up to the emotional overflow. He felt vaguely guilty for kissing her – for starting this, - but he was sure he’d have done this again, if he could turn back time. He wanted the memory of making love to her to stay with him forever, whatever came next.

\- But I wanted to say yes, Quinn. I did.

It hurt so much to hear, how could he do this to her? She wanted to get out together, and he let her down, left her alone and assured that he ran away from her, because she was unworthy. He couldn't find words to tell how guilty he felt right now. 

\- I.. was such a fool. I regret that I left you, and I won’t do it again. We’re in this together, I’m not going anywhere, not this time, do you believe me?

She took a deep breath, feeling her pain lessen, but still she was so sad – she was mourning for her peaceful life, missing her daughter, regretting her misplaced trust towards Jonas, who left as soon as the problems began, and she was so sad for these lost years that she and Quinn both could spend together… or try to, at least. We are who we are, - she thought, - but maybe we still have a chance… if we survive, of course.

It was not the first time she was in mortal danger, but back then, in her previous life, she felt she was serving her country, keeping innocent people safe. This time, there was no guarantee she wasn’t hunted by her former colleagues for some reason she wasn’t aware of, and this time she chose normal civilian life to keep her child out of danger. 

Quinn held her close, comforting her, letting her to grieve. Loneliness was something they both were used to throughout their lives, in different ways. Quinn accepted it as something inevitable, that came with the job, with his way of life, while Carrie was desperately fighting against it, and had lost so many times. Finally, they were in each other’s arms, and he wished to tell her, non-verbally, he’d do everything for her, and she didn’t have to fight any more – he was hers, if she wanted. Completely. 

Feeling that she settled a bit, her breath becoming more even, he whispered:

\- Hey, you’re tired. Let’s sleep couple of hours. We’ll sort it out tomorrow. I’ll keep the watch.

He pulled the cover over them both, kissed her forehead, holding her tight, and with all safety and comfort, after exhausting miserable days full of fear and mania, she was asleep in a minute. 

**

The light was shining through the colored windows of their hideout when she woke up. Quinn was up, dressed, and made them coffee and sandwiches. He sat on the edge of the bed, bent to kiss her shoulder and passed her a cup as she sat up. They were silent, eating and sipping their coffee – it wasn’t awkward, quite the opposite, very comforting - enjoying a few more minutes of calm together. 

She sighed. They had to return to the subject that brought them both here, it was good to have a break from attempting not getting killed, but it was time to come up with a plan.

\- Tell me what you know, Quinn. 

-Not much. There’s an operation, Saul’s and mine. He puts a name in the box, I provide the proof of death.

\- You think Saul want me dead? No, it can’t be true. 

Carrie looked at him, eyes full of disbelief.

\- But it is.

\- No, no. That doesn’t make sense! Carrie was agitated.– He might have changed, he might hate me, but he is smart enough not to send you, of all the people, to kill me. 

He reached out, cupped her cheek with his hand – a tender gesture to soothe her. She was a mess – stains of dry blood still on her face and arms, hair tousled, and obviously struggling with overcoming emotions, yet focused and determined. He always admired her professional qualities, her ability to think and to solve problems, no matter what life throws at her. He’s always trusted her judgement... and, to be honest, she made a point. Saul should have known Quinn was a poor choice - he would never harm her, and it was plenty of other black ops resources at his disposal to handle the situation. 

\- So what do you think?

\- Someone is inside your operation. We have to contact Saul.

That was risky, but made sense. 

\- Ok, Carrie. A lot of people know you’ve disappeared, so they think I’m looking for you now. We have time till tomorrow to think everything through and get ready.  
Carrie got up, wrapping herself in a bed sheet – strange modesty, he thought, after the events of last night, but strange in a good way: she wasn’t distancing or acting like nothing happened, it was a shy gesture – very sweet, actually. Did she have any regrets about last night? What did it mean to her? Quinn didn’t know, and wasn’t intended to ask. He hoped he’d be able to make her life better, to keep her safe, to show her – in every possible way – how precious she was to him. His own fight against his love was obviously lost, and no longer needed. 

Even if she doesn’t want to be with me, it’s all worth it – to feel alive, just one time, among dark years of war and pain, he thought. No matter what’s next, I had this night, and it’ll stay with me forever. 

She walked up to the sink, turned on the water to wash her face, neck and chest, rubbing blood stains with a wet washcloth. Silently he approached and stood beside her, making an eye-contact through the muddy mirror on the wall, pressing his hands to her bare shoulders. She was so small, the top of her head just at the right level to put his nose in her hair, breathe in her sweet scent. The murky place of their hideout was all lit with the sun, and her hair was glowing in it, golden and shiny. She looked concerned, likely thinking over their options, and just a bit tired. Gently removing her hair from the side of her neck, he kissed the spot behind her ear, moved to her neck and bare shoulder, nuzzling, kissing and scratching with his stubble. 

\- Hey, - he spoke, unsure what to say next. He wanted to tell her how he loved her desperately for years, how he missed her, how he wanted to be the one in danger instead of her, but he couldn’t oblige her. 

She turned to face him, pulled him close, looking him in the eyes. With him she felt so desired, cared of, like never before. Safe, right in the middle of hunt for her, strange as it sounds. 

\- Thank you, - she said, - for helping me.

Quinn didn't answer, just smiled, holding her in his arms. 

\- I’ll go get us something to eat. Do you need anything?

\- A phone. And you back soon.

When Quinn returned, Carrie was sleeping, one night rest wasn't enough after sleepless and stressful days she had to go through. He thought it would be right to wake her for dinner, with a very specific technique he gad in mind, so he couldn't resist to crawl into the bed, undressing quickly on his way to it, and stretching behind her. He pressed his body against her back, embracing her and caressing her silky skin gently, making sure not to leave any spot without his heed, all the while kissing her neck, biting it slightly just to soothe it with his tongue. She moaned so sweetly that he nearly came just from the sound of it when he brushed and rolled her hardened nipples between his fingers. As his hand slowly traveled further south, to her belly, across her navel, she wiggled impatiently, pressing her butt against him. He could smell maddening scent of her skin, nuzzling her neck and hairline behind her ear. He reached her folds with his palm only to find her completely wet and ready for him. He placed himself against her, entering slowly, pushing his cock inside, feeling her stretching to accommodate him. He could tell she was so wound up already, breath ragged, groaning, and she came, fast and messy, even before he was all the way inside of her. 

\- Jesus, Carrie, - he exhaled, feeling her contracting around him.

This woman. He knew more than he’d prefer about her previous sex life, this knowledge leaving no doubts regarding her sexuality, but still she surprised him with her temperament and hunger for him. 

\- Come on, Quinn, just fuck me already, - she said with urge, writhing her hips, seeking for desired friction.

He obliged, laying her, face down, on the bed, covering her with his body so she was unable to move. He fucked her hard, pressing himself deeply with his weight, stretching her innermost boundaries, whispering in her ear how how hot and desired she is, how many times he’d seen this in his dreams. She was close again, with all these words and the pose that only allowed to tighten her thighs for more contact, completely at his mercy in all other senses, surrendering to him. 

\- Come for me, Carrie, - he groaned, stroking harder, being unable to stop himself.

She obeyed, and he followed within a second, sending them into a sheer oblivion together. He exploded inside of her, while she was clenching around him, their orgasms mutually enhancing and prolonging one another. 

They lay together, slowly regaining consciousness after their mind-blowing sex. Carrie turned to face him, leaning for a kiss, that was so soft and tender that almost made her cry. That's how it is to be loved, she thought. 

He got up, but only to bring the takeout food he bought. They shared their dinner in bed. Definitely a day when you don't have to put your clothes on is a good one, Carrie though, smiling. A day that you spend in a bed with a gorgeous man who cares about you deeply and drives you crazy making love to you is perfect. For a long time she felt nothing like this, and called it happiness.

\- You know, Jonas left me, before you found me. Don't think I’ll ever see him again. 

Quinn felt uneasy, tense, as they were on the dangerous territory now. He was silent, listening what she had to say. 

\- I was off my meds, I thought it'd help to find who’s after me. It.. didn't help. Things got out of control. I assaulted him, he accused me for being a murderer. 

Quinn took her hand in his while the words were pouring out. He’d prefer to be dressed and out of the bed while speaking about the other guy, who fucking lived with her for two fucking years. But, life is not ideal. 

\- Do you want him back? - He had to ask, dreading of the possible answer.

\- It was a mistake, I can see it now. We were never good for each other. I.. wanted a normal life, stability, and I‘ve got it, but couldn't really fit in. 

\- Do you love him? Shit, he should have asked this a while ago, a bit too late now, but well, again, nothing is ideal.

She had to think about it. For long minutes, that felt like eternity for Quinn, she was quiet. If he asked her just two days before, she'd give a positive answer. She was happy with her life, not perfect, but decent, secure and stable. But, first, she had that “I don't know how you live with yourself” from Jonas, his disgusted look, his harsh judgment. She wasn't good enough for him, with her past and her condition. And then, there was Quinn. Who never judged, who was on her side, even when they disagreed, and she could feel the difference – it was so obvious – the lengths he was ready to go for her, his longing look. More than that, they were cut from the same cloth, and she felt this closeness despite the years of separation, and that was something she never had with Jonas, the luxury of not pretending, understanding each other without words. And all this passion, they were attracted to each other with all-outbalancing force, and she was melting under his touch. Again, nothing like this happened to her when she was with Jonas. Fake, from the beginning to the end - that's how it felt, when compared. At last, she spoke: 

\- I thought I did, I mean, he was nice, caring, attached to Frannie. I though it was enough. I was wrong, apparently. 

She looked at him, earnest, waiting for his reaction. He didn't answer, trying to take it in, to see what's behind these words. 

\- I want to give us a try, - she said quietly.

Is she serious? Does that mean…

\- Say something! Or what do you think is happening here, between us?

\- I want to be with you, Carrie, you know I do, and I did for a long time. 

\- Promise not to leave without a word this time?

\- Yes, I’ve said that before. Not gonna make the same mistake again.

\- Good, otherwise I’ll think I'm a lousy lay.

He chuckled at her tease, pulling her to his lap. 

\- I think I need to try it again to decide. 

\- Quinn… Do you think we’ll make it? – She was all serious again.

\- We should. We’ve always made a great team.

\- So what's the plan? For tomorrow, I mean.

\- I know where he stays. 

\- Good. So you go there, contact him, set the meeting..

\- Right. You stay here.

\- I’ll go, I need to meet him. I won't make myself seen till it's safe.

He sighed. Some things don't change, Carrie was as stubborn as always. 

\- Ok, I guess I can't convince you to change your mind.

\- Quinn, I have to go. My life depends on this meeting. I need to look him in the eye, I’ll know if something’s wrong.

\- Fine. 

He was worried about the next day and what it might bring, but he swore to himself he wouldn't allow anything bad to happen. Now he was finally holding her in the arms, they had a chance, a real chance to be together, no way in hell he’d let it slip away. 

They’ll be safe, and they'll get out together, for real.


End file.
